


Punchy

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Fastlane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-22
Updated: 2005-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by hua</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punchy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Aithine

 

 

In the end things were more or less okay (though they didn't get there without the usual blood, sweat, and maybe even a few tears) and Van found himself back in the Candy store, leaning against a newer addition to the stable. He couldn't guess about his partner, but he was so tired he was having trouble standing up straight. It wasn't really the good kind of tired, either, but so what? He was so relieved he could trick himself into thinking it was. His eyes stung from lack of sleep, but he just leaned his elbows on the hood of the yellow '76 Stingray, keeping an eye on the drama in the middle of the room. It was an effort not to find something with a half-way accommodating back seat and just sleep.

"Looks like Billie's back on her feet," he muttered, watching her go all out at Hill. She didn't seem that worse for wear. Aside from the fact he could see the shadows under her eyes from here. "She's back, we're back."

"If you call this back." Van doesn't know if Deaq is as tired as he is, but he sounds cranky. "Man, the more shit we go through, the more everything stays the same."

Van is more zen. Billie's kidnapping hadn't really made the powers that be rethink their position, not that the shit has really had time to settle on that score, anyway. But Van considers it just a matter of time. Billie's here, relatively safe, and Hill can't last, not against the kind of results they were seeing before. At least he hopes not. By-the-book is not exactly what he'd call Hill. It's more like he has a stick up his ass and a chip on his shoulder. As a matter of fact, Van can hear him now in the background, saying something not entirely complementary about Van and Deaq's performance in the field. Van winced and glanced up at his partner. "What, this doesn't seem just a little familiar?" It would be safer up on the upper level. Not that they were really hiding behind the cars. It was a little bit like watching a boxing match, maybe. He didn't want to be close enough to catch the splatter.

Deaq frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, yeah." he rolled his eyes. "You still owe that fifty."

"Okay, okay."

Weight still on his elbows, Van pressed his palms together quickly, then laced his fingers together and put his thumbs on his temples. He slid them down to prop up his jaw as he looked up at the scene one more time. "My hundred to your fifty," he offered after a few seconds.

"On what?"

"On what?" Van repeated. "On that." He pushed away from the car and indicated with a sweeping arm the direction of Billie's office.

Deaq screwed up his face expressively.

"Only, this time?" Van smiled, lying back against the body of the car. " _I_ say Roland gets popped."

"In the face?"

Van looked up with a smirk, tapping his index finger to his chin.

"Ace."

"Yeah?" Van raised his eyebrows, shifting to look toward the office again. Deaq's eyes followed the direction of his gaze. Billie'd changed her tactics and was in Hill's face. For his part, Hill was watching with his usual smug air, arms hanging at his sides. Deaq quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. "That is for _sure_ the look. And you can call it like you see it. But not only did the man, through some freak of nature manage to pull our asses out of the fire, he's also our boss. At the moment. And, at the moment, if he wants us directing traffic, we're gonna be directing traffic. Billie knows that."

"But that, that implies she's thinking in these little interludes." Van was inclined to doubt it.

Deaq gave him an incredulous look.

"What? What?"

"You are in no place to be talking about anybody else."

"Whatever. That just means I know the stuff when I see it." Van put his elbows on the hood again, leaning over his clasped hands, then shifted his weight to nudge against Deaq's hip. "What I want to know is, is it a bet?"

Deaq stared at him for a moment, and then glanced at the office. "It's a bet."

"Good, because th- heads up!"

Silence in the warehouse, developments in the office. Billie had half spun away, teeth clenched like she was this close, this _close_ , and then she shot a look back over her shoulder.

Deaq rocked back on his heels. "What is _that_?"

Van planted his hands on the car and pushed himself up yet again.

Or started to. He was halfway there when Billie stalked up and grabbed the sides of Hill's face, hauled him forward, and kissed him.

Van fell back, dropping his head between his outstretched arms. Deaq covered his mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh my god."

"You saw that?" Van asked, still in something vaguely resembling a recovery position.

"I'm _still_ seeing it." Deaq hauled him upright with more force than was strictly required; Van knocked his head against Deaq's shoulder and laughed helplessly.

"Shut up." Deaq hissed, nearly whispering. "Van. Do not, do not attract their attention." He thumped Van's shoulder and Van stepped back, dragging his hair out of his eyes as his hysterics died.

"I think their attention is magnetically orientated elsewhere at the moment."

"You sure? 'Cause I don't want to find out." Deaq headed for the doors, obviously expecting Van to follow, but Van stopped in his tracks before he got far.

His attention was magnetically orientated as well, it seemed, drawn once again to the brightly lit office. "I'm starting to re-think daytime soaps as an entertainment possibility," Van admitted to no one in particular. It looked like physical stuff really _didn't_ work on Hill - he looked a little more smug than five minutes before, but other than that, unruffled. He really was a freak.

Billie, definitely not good. Van liked to think he had a line on reading body language, considering his job. It helped to be tuned into that kind of thing. But you didn't have to be an expert to recognize the sheer badness coming from the dais. Not to mention he could sort of hear what Hill was saying, though he wasn't speaking loud, he formed the words with his usual careful savor.

"...cliche. But as your superior officer, Lieutenant Chambers, I have to say..." Van winced.

"Do I have to physically wrestle you out of here?" Deaq spoke in his ear. Van pushed his shoulder back, trying to pay attention.

He'd missed the rest of Hill's little speech - Van wondered if he'd had one _prepared_ , just for this exceedingly unlikely event. But it didn't matter, because Billie drew back a fist.

It was nothing like slow motion.

"Hill got stole!" Deaqon hauled him behind the closest cycle. Van grabbed him by the shirt in return. "Did you see that? Now that, that was a hit." Van gasped at the back tire of the 919 they were currently taking cover behind. In the larger sense, he was very confused, but he'd definitely just won the bet.

Deaq hauled him out by the collar of his open shirt, trying to steer the bike with one hand to provide cover as they slunk for the door. It wasn't far; he thought that they would probably make it. "Would you _move_?"

They were outside, Van shaking free. He leant against the side of the warehouse, pushing his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket while Deaq straightened and kept pushing the Honda, heading toward the road.

"What should we do about it?"

Deaq drew back and shot him a look. "We aren't going to do anything about it. They're adults. And, I know you aren't - maybe because you seem to be permanently stuck two decades in the past - but I am also an adult. And what other adults do in the privacy of their office, no matter what the walls are made out of, is...."

"A-"

"Uh-Uh. Do not interrupt me. Trust me on this. It never happened. Never happened."

Van pushed away from the wall and trotted down the alley, which was as grey and relatively clean as ever. "She kissed him, huh? I always thought our pal Roland had a thing for Billie, but this was, this was..."

Deaq stopped walking. "Are you-? Van, I don't know how this continues to escape you, but there are some things in this world a brother is better off not knowing. I don't want to talk about it. I don't even want to think about it."

"Yeah, but what if she gets hurt?"

" _Billie_ is a grown up. She can take care of herself."

Van took the other side of the bike, starting them toward the mouth of the alley again. "That's not what you said-"

"What I said in the past is beside the point," Deaq enunciated very clearly. "What I'm saying now is to drop it."

This time, Van stopped the bike. "Look, I'm not denying Billie can take care of herself. But let's not forget she's been through a lot lately. As demonstrated by her little lapse in judgment." Deaq started pushing the bike forward again. Van stuck his hands back in his pockets and followed, sighing. "It's probably some kind of sexual harassment angle, anyway."

Maybe Deaq was right, and maybe he wasn't, but he obviously wasn't going to get any further with Deaq about it tonight, and Deaq probably wasn't who he should be talking to about it anyway. There was only one real subject he had to talk about that concerned Deaq, and he said so.

"Which is?"

Van held out his hand, palm up. Deaq let his head loll as comprehension dawned, and Van grinned.

"You still owe me." He gestured with his open hand and rubbed the thumb and index finger of his other hand together. "Pay up."

"Oh, I'm gonna give you something. It's too bad no one's laying bets on this one."

"You really gonna punch your own partner?"

"What? I'm sure not about to kiss you."

Van laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

Van shook his head. "Whatever." What's wrong with _him_? What's wrong with Deaq, that oughtta be the question. He always seems to run away from the strangest things, although most of the time his reasons make some sort of sense when he bothers to explain.

They'd reached the mouth of the alley, and people were moving by on the street with quick steps, cars zipping past, flashing neon reflections. Van blinked slowly at the city. Deaq crowded Van away from the handlebars of the motorcycle and swung his leg over the seat. "Van, let it go. When mommy and daddy are fighting, we don't get in the middle. That's common sense."

Van blinked at him again, slowly refocusing. "So, what? Are you running away from home?"

"You could put it like that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Can I come too?"

"Sorry." Deaq rolled his head, then grinned at Van, running an affectionate hand over the fuel tank. "This bike ain't built for two."

"Fine." Van made a show of tugging his collar up against the cold and lonely night as he turned and made his way to the sidewalk. Deaq watched him go a little ways, working his shoulders, working his palms over the handlebars.

"Get back here. Get on."

Van jogged back. "I'm driving."

"No."

"Come on."

"Van, you're too tired to think straight, let alone see straight."

"Really?" Van gave in and settled behind, grinning nearly against the back of Deaq's neck. He slung his arms around Deaq's waist as the motorcycle leapt out of the alley, shouting into Deaq's ear over the wind. "Should be an interesting drive!"

 


End file.
